I'll Be Waiting
by HolliiiCruiser
Summary: Post Season 8. One-shot. After New Year's, Donna takes a look at the familiar sights around her, and she and Eric begin to work out their many issues... sort of.


Hiya There! This is my first ever That 70's show story! WOOT! I'm excited! Anyways.

This is set the same night/the next morning after the series finale.

Eric and Donna work out some of their issues... sort of.

:)

I hope you enjoy!

**I'll Be Waiting**

1980 sure didn't look any different than 1979 had. It didn't look any different than any other year she had experienced. She was where she had always been, lounging around in the scrawny neighbor boy's basement.

It was all so familiar to her.

The musty couch spotted and stained with things she couldn't bring herself to begin to think about. The dryer ticking along, drying Fez's pants after he had spilt beer all down himself rushing to kiss Jackie as the New Year was rung in. The slightly echoing sounds of Hyde and Kelso's snores mingling together, filtering to her from where they had passed out halfway down the stairs, after arguing over whether leading a gasoline trail to the four-foot long bottle rocket Kelso was dying to use would cause the entire house to blow up.

She was sure, if she pulled herself away, that Mrs. Forman would be upstairs in the kitchen, making homemade waffles and pouring ice-cold orange juice, trying to hide the slight hang-over she was nursing. Red would be at the table, reading the paper, ignoring her own dad when he inevitably walked through the glass door without even knocking. No one had ever knocked.

But the most familiar thing was currently wrapped up in her, its head resting over her shoulder. His breath tickled her ear every few seconds, a steady beat. She could feel the warmth of one of his hands where it was wrapped up in her hair, lingering against her face, while the other one was hung tenderly over her waist. And, under the blanket he must have fetched for them, her back was pushed to his chest, so that he was smooshed against the back of the couch, 

just to make room for her. She was surprised he could sleep at all; surprised that he could keep his breath steady like that.

"Are you done pretending you're asleep now?" He mumbled, his breath tickling her chest.

"Are you?" She whispered back, her light laugher shaking them both.

"I wasn't pretending, Miss Pinciotti. I was drifting along in dreamland until I inhaled a large piece of your blonde mane." He kissed her hair to prove his point.

"I wasn't pretending either, I was just thinking." She said, her voice growing softer as he face grew more somber.

He growled off-key, it sounded higher than he probably wanted. "Thinking is what always does us in; I know that even if I don't know anything else." He pulled his head back slightly, kissing her neck. "I think that we should not think for the rest of the day, don't you think?" She could feel his grin growing on her skin.

"I don't know, Eric. We have to talk eventually. You'll need to start thinking eventually too; it's better late than never." She elbowed him lightly in the chest as he reached up to cover her mouth with his hand.

With a slightly jerky motion, he had moved to hover above her, replacing his hand with his mouth. She laughed, trying to move her face that her lips would not be so easy for him to catch. She reached up and pushed back on his shoulders, restraining him.

"Aw, how I've missed this." He smiled, fighting futilely against his not-so-unpleasant bonds.

"Shut up, dill hole." She whispered fondly, letting his arms back down enough so that he could kiss her again.

"Such harsh names, do I deserve them?" He smiled, although it faded instantly. "Forget that last question, milady." He said, a half-smile pulling up one side of his mouth, although it didn't reach his eyes.

"See what I mean, Eric? We have to think, we have to talk if we ever want to move past all of it, to finally be together." She reached up to touch his face. "I want to think, want to talk, I want to move past this, I want to be together.

He smiled, and it reached his eyes now, making them dance. "Then we'll think, we'll talk, we'll move past this, we'll be together." He grabbed her hands, pulling her up so that they sat quite close to each other, his bent knee touching her leg.

She reached out to take his hand. "I start college in a week, like I said before."

He nodded his head. "You go to college. You deserve your own adventure; let's just hope it pans out better than my Africa fiasco did." He grinned.

"But, what about you?" She asked, her eyebrows knitting together.

"I'll be waiting." He said, looking deep into her eyes as he leaned in to kiss her again.

"Well, that sounds like the start of a plan, at least." She allowed. "Which, just a start of a plan is a very good start for you." She joked, as she lightly slapped his cheek.

"Well, we have a week until you have to leave. I vow to hold you that whole entire time." He smiled, pulling her to him.

"That definitely sounds like a good plan. But…" She trailed off.

"What?" He said, his eyes growing worried.

"Can we hold off on that for a second? I really have to pee." She smiled at him and he laughed.

"I definitely don't want to be holding you during that." He grabbed her hand before she could slap him again and gave it a kiss. "Carry on then." He gestured towards the stairs.

She stood up, and got to the stairs before his voice called her back.

"Hey, Donna?"

"Yes, Eric?" She smiled.

"I'll be waiting."


End file.
